Lucky Number Seven
by MightBePsychotic
Summary: Seraphine just wants to make sure her family doesn't starve. She wants nothing to do with the selection or Prince Rylan. But to make sure her family is fed, she must enter, she knows she won't actually get picked. Until she does. Rated T just 'cause ;)


A screech fills my ears and I rush into the living room, which isnt far in my small house.

My little sister sits infront of the tv, eyes glued to it while our father also stares, his paper forgotten. My brow wrinkles as i go in to ask what everyone is so excited about.

I open my mouth to speak but Blair cuts me off, "Shush!" She snaps harshly, I scowl at her and listen to the Illea Report, I havent been watching it the past days since I've had to work cleaning when it's usually on for the 2 families in White.

Oh by the way, I'm a 7.

My father, sister and I live in a house with only one bedroom, one bathroom and barely a kitchen or living room. It has very little electricity but we usually get the Report each Friday. I'm grateful for this house though I cant help but get jealous of all the people I clean for, the Two's who think they have it all and don't care about wasting food when my family and others are starving and living on the streets.

I hear the familiar sign off, the Illea national anthem, and turn to my family, "What's going on?" I ask, mildly interested.

Blair jumps up, she's only nine but a motor mouth at that. Father got fired from his job weeks ago and now stays home with her, while I work three jobs, sometimes two when I get a day off but days off isn't going to bring home money for food.

My mother died when I was thirteen, I'm seventeen now, and left our family in ruins. We were a family of fives before, but my mother did something so bad she got us exciled to the sevens, I still have no idea what it was but i resent her for it. I never liked her really, she always yelled at me and my father, sometimes even toddler Blair. I hate her for leaving us to fend for ourselves when we can barely get enough food.

"Prince Rylan is having a selection! Blair this is your year. You could be picked!" She practically screams in my ear.

I wince at the sound of that. No way would I want to spend a day with those rich snobs, let alone a week, but it's not like I'm going to get picked anyway. I glance at father who's eyes are tired, he's sending me a message and I know what he wants me to do, he wants me to enter.

I know it would help, of course it would. The palace sents commisions for your family, and that money is proabbly more than how much i make in a single month.

"That's nice, Blair." I say, turning away from both of them.

Blair's hand grabs my shirt, "You'll enter wont you? You could be the next queen!" She shrieks in delight. I dont tell her that wont happen, I dont tell her that I'd rather work a few more jobs than go to the palace. I do look at father, his eyes pleading.

I sigh, hating myself already. "Yes, I'll enter. I'll go down tomorrow morning before my shift." I say, resigned.

Blair grins happily, "Trust me Seraphine, you'll get in. I mean they'd be a fool not to!"

I roll my eyes when she turns away from me, I so did not want to do this.

Oh the perks of being a freaking seven.

00000000000

The next morning I wake bright and early, before the sun is even up. I shift out of bed, careful not to move Blair since we share a bed and Father sleeps on the couch.

I soundless put on a nice shirt and some jeans, this'll do for the photo that they always take. I can even work in it for my cleaning job I have to get to afterwards.

I shove my feet into some shin high boots, put my almost white blonde hair into a ponytail and shove on my cartigan. I already saw that it snowed over night, that's just how it is in the winter in Whites.

The name reflects our providence's weather. It's always cold except for one or two months where it's above fifty degrees. I chatter, wishing I had gloves as I make my way qucikly down the road toward the City Hall building.

I'm not even close when I see there's already a line, since when did people get up this early?

I get closer, ambling through the crowd. I see twos and threes, pretty outfits on that probably two times more than my house and their makeup and hair done. One particulary nasty girl glares at me, smirking, as if she can't believe I had the nerve to actually try and sign up.

"Sera!" Someone calls, I turn and see my best friend, Lydia. She's a three but it doesnt matter, she's been my best friend since I was a five and that was when I was born.

I smile at her when she gets up to me, "This is so exciting! Can you believe it? We're actually of age!" She grins madly, she's dressed like the others, everything done up.

I now wish I should have done that, maybe put some more effort into my appearance, after all its the first impression. I shake my head internally, _it's too late now._ I think.

We walk together up to the end of the line and stand waiting for our turn, it takes almost an hour and a half for us to even get into the City Hall building and there's probably almost fifty more girls. I jiggle uncomfortably, I'm going to be late, and that could get me fired!

"Would you stop? Do you have to pee or something?" Lydia asks, raising an eyebrow.

I flush a bit, pink showing up on my pale complexion, "No, I'm going to be late for my job, last time I was late, she'd said she'd fire me." I sigh, looking around. "Maybe I should just go-".

"No!" Lydia yells, catching many odd looks. Just like me, we don't partically care what people think about us. If i did, my life as a seven would be an even worst hell than it actually is. "You can't leave, I'll write you a note or something."

I sigh, she usually does this. Writes a note for my employers about my tardiness or absence. "Alright, alright." I say.

Reluctantly, the line shuffles forward until Lydia goes through to have her photo taken and everthing before I do. I'm slightly annoyed she did first since I'm practically skipping my job and may lose it for something that won't even happen.

About twenty minitues later, Lydia leaves the room, her signature grin on her face and throws me two thumbs up. I deliver a weak smile and walk up to the door, and pushing it open.

At once, I'm given a paper to fill out, this is probably why it took so long.

 _Full name_

Easy one, Seraphine Dillion Grear. I know it's long and ugly but I can't really change it.

 _Age_

Seventeen

 _Caste_

I scowl as I write seven, I should have put five.

I write down all my other personal stuff before getting to the last questions.

 _Personality_

How am I supposed to know what my personality is? If i could pick, I'd probably say annoyed at life. I don't write that, instead put the safe option. I put down funny and sweet. I shrug, good enough

 _Activities/hobbies_

I resist the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose and leave, why does this matter? I dont have any hobbies, I dont have time for them, all I do is cook and work, sometimes if I'm lucky I'm able to paint. So I put down that, I like to cook and paint.

Finally it's over, I hand my paper to a tired, annoyed looking photographer who wrinkles her nose when she looks over my paper, probably looking at the seven written down. I scowl back as I'm directed toward a chair and told to pose.

I relent, wishing away my frown and turning it into a smile I think looks good.

"Alright, you're good." The woman says curtly, and I exit, more annoyed and tired than I was going in. And now I have to work three more jobs before i can actually relax.

Lydia's waiting for me, "Oh my god! I'm so excited!" She giggles, ranting on and on about how _adorable_ Rylan looks and how she might die if she gets chosen.

I eventually zone her out, nodding when I need to and thinking. I just need to stay in as long as possible, get enough money. Maybe even get the prince to like me. I don't want to lead him on but without me my family might as well live on the street.

000000000000

The next week is normal for me luckily, though everyone is talking about the selection, I've learned to tune it out. It's always the same old thing, everyone hoping they'll get picked and wondering what they'll do and wear.

It annoyed the sanity out of me, I almost smacked a girl when I was cleaning when she _accidentally_ rant into my dust pan when she was talking about it.

Though finally Friday rolls around, I'm happy it does because all I want to do is for everyone to shut up about it and let me do my job without everyone wishing they would go to the palace.

Don't get me wrong, I'm probably just bitter or jealous, but it really gets on your nerves when we're stuck living like this with barely enough food and they're always wanting something better. Though I guess I'm wanting something better so I guess it's just how people are.

I'm trudging home after a terribly long day of outside cleaning the windows at my last house in 13 degree weather. My fingers feel frostbitten and they're so numb I'm afraid they're going to fall off. The snow is up to my ankles right now, so I have to high step through it or I'm afraid it's going to get down my food.

Just then, I'm hit by something hard and cold at the back of my head. I purse my lips and spin, angry. I find the culprit who decided to pelt me with a snowball and it's no other than Patty Neace, a two, pretty much the wealthiest two in the whole providence and she's dedicated her life to making mine a pretty much hell while I'm here.

"What do you want, Patty." I grit my teeth so I'm not chatter them when I'm supposed to look tough.

I look her over and she looks perfectly warm, a fluffy pink coat on with jeans and boots that would look absolutely wonderful on my feet. Her gloves would make me so happy right about now, not to mention her hat to cover my frost ears. I sigh internally, if I go now I can get inside where it's moderately warm. _If father made the fire._ I think suddenly worried, what if he forgot or he got injured? His back has been in pretty bad shape lately and it worries me about how he's going to take care of Blair.

"Oh nothing Seraphine, just that I saw you signing up for the Selection last week." She laughs hard like it's a joke she can't resist laughing at. "Did you really think you could be picked you worthless seven, you and your family would be better off dead if you weren't used as cleaners." She says, a bitter smile on her lips.

My pulse races, she did not just say that. I can control my temper since the next thing I know my knuckles sting and she's in a snow pile. For a second we both just stare at each other, we both can believe what just happened. Blood drips down her nose and she cries out.

I back away, my mouth twisted into a smirk, and run toward my house. I hear her screaming after me and can't help myself from chuckling.

I finally make it to my house, sweaty and cold because my fixed run. Blair meets me at the door. "Sera! You almost missed it, come on!" She says, as a pull off my boots and coat and she tugs on my jacket.

Father lit a fire so I sit my it to warm up my extremities. By the time I sit down, the Illea national anthem is over and I see Dex Farare, the national reporter for the royal famies, face fill the screen.

"Hello Illea!" He announces, cards in his hands. Those no doubt hold the names to the winners. I hope Lydia wins, she deserves it, I mean she's always loved Prince Rylan.

Dex and the King talk about the war which I tune out and I've about dozed off when my little sister shakes me, "It's time!" She sing songs. I look at father who looks back at me with a smile. My father is a man of very little words but I know he loves us and he shows it in other ways.

"Amy Liens of Belcourt, 3..." He announces, I filter my mind through the names of people I've never heard of. This is kind of exciting though I hate to admit it. "Fawn Weasly of Clermont, 2..."

I start to lose hope, but I remember ours is usually last, so far there are no names above a four, except one whose a five. I shake my head, of course I wouldn't get picked, I'm a filthy seven.

"Lastly," Dex says, a sly smile, then it's gone as he reads over the paper. "Seraphine Grear of Whites...7"

The house is speechless, the palace is speechless, the whole damn country is speechless.

I, the filthy seven, is going to the palace.


End file.
